


Seize the Crown

by compo67



Series: Punzel Verse [34]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Children, Coparenting, Drag Queens, Established Relationship, Family Feels, Family Issues, Friendship, Gender Identity, Gender Issues, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Jeff POV, M/M, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Relationship Advice, Relationship Issues, Reminiscing, Timestamp, Triplets, drag queens make the world go round
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22606423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/compo67/pseuds/compo67
Summary: Lately, Bailey refuses to take off his princess crown.To any other adult, this may propose a problem or a challenge. To Jeff, it gives him an excuse to also wear his princess crown.Three weeks after Christmas, on a Saturday morning, Jeff surprises Bailey with two additional gifts: a super special, very fragile, have-to-take-care-of-it, silver wire and crystal crown. For the second gift, Jeff reveals that they have the whole day to be together, just Papa and Bay.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki, Misha Collins/Jeffrey Dean Morgan
Series: Punzel Verse [34]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/145830
Comments: 14
Kudos: 79





	Seize the Crown

For Christmas, Jeff bought The Fabulous Three pink, plastic princess crowns. 

Lately, Bailey refuses to take off his princess crown. 

To any other adult, this may propose a problem or a challenge. To Jeff, it gives him an excuse to also wear his princess crown. 

Three weeks after Christmas, on a Saturday morning, Jeff surprises Bailey with two additional gifts: a super special, very fragile, have-to-take-care-of-it, silver wire and crystal crown. For the second gift, Jeff reveals that they have the  _ whole _ day to be together, just Papa and Bay.

They start with breakfast at Huckleberry Cafe. 

Their waitress, Marlene, would typically compliment Jeff’s outfit, but she breezes right past him and lasers in on his tiny companion. She fusses over Bailey’s pink polo and baby blue jacket, jeans, and silver sequin Chucks. Jeff manages to place an order for breakfast only after Marlene finishes kissing and hugging Bailey worse than a grandmother at Thanksgiving. 

Bailey survives the onslaught and they talk about school over pancakes. So far, he likes school, which pleases Jeff to no end. The kids are nice, Bailey reports, and if they aren’t nice, Kaylee makes them be nice. 

Jeff makes a mental note to talk to Kaylee later about  _ making _ other kids be nice. Kaylee does not lack… spirit. Or die hard loyalty to her siblings. 

After breakfast, they head over to two bookstores, then to Matilda’s for juice and a quick kiss from mommy, and their final destination.

Jeff and Bailey then wear their princess crowns to the R+D Kitchen on Montana off of 14th. 

The pub doesn’t open until five in the evening, but that’s not a problem for Jeff and Bailey, who arrive just after one.

The owner, J. Devon Harper, floats across the restaurant to the hostess station. 

Wearing a semi-sheer, fuschia, Versace sweater paired with black Dolce & Gabbana trousers and Givenchy leather sandals, Devon appears to have just stepped off the runway. On her visits to Los Angeles and the great glittery beyond, people often mistake her for Jada Pinkett Smith. She will sometimes correct those misguided souls by letting them know Will Smith would only be so lucky to have the company of Miss J. Devon Harper.

She too, wears a princess crown. 

“Darlings, so happy to see you!” She extends her right hand to Jeff. 

Not missing a beat, Jeff takes her hand, kisses it, then twirls her around in a manner of greeting they started in college. 

Miss Harper laughs, then pats his chest. She looks at Bailey and smiles. “Oh my, Your Highness, you look beautiful today. Absolutely charming.” 

Bailey stands next to Jeff, glued to his side, peering up at Miss Harper. Curiosity fills his eyes as he takes in Miss Harper’s elegant, broad shoulders, gold Queen print Versace scarf, and strawberry red Armani lipstick. 

Jeff gently runs a hand through Bailey’s hair, careful not to disturb the princess crown. “Princess Bailey and I are on a date, Princess Devon. We’re hoping you could accommodate us.” 

“Oh honey, it would be my pleasure. I have DeAnthony in the kitchen and Kwesi to attend our party.” With exquisitely manicured nails, she motions them towards an area of the restaurant set aside for a party of ten. 

Known for its maddeningly delicious cocktails, impeccable food, and perpetual crowds of people waiting for a table, the R+D Kitchen takes its reputation for service seriously. For their afternoon soiree, Miss Harper set up their space with glimmering crystal glasses, Baroque style silver flatware, a lavender linen tablecloth, and embroidered napkins. All truly fitting for a trio of princesses.

“I owe you one,” Jeff says to Miss Harper, watching the wonder and amazement in Bailey’s eyes. 

Miss Harper simply smiles. She helps Bailey into the booth and onto a riser, sits next to him, and shows him how to sit like a lady. Bailey does his best to model Miss Harper’s perfect poise. 

Jeff quickly snaps a picture of the two of them at the table, then joins them, adjusting his own crown. 

Miss Harper pours Bailey a glass of lustrous pink lemonade. “Your Highness, your crown is magnificent.”

Bailey giggles for a split second, then returns to his royal demeanor. “Thank you. I like yours too.” 

“That’s because you have fabulous taste, Your Highness,” Miss Harper proclaims. “Beautiful princesses like us always know what looks best. Isn’t that right, Princess Jeff?”

“Quite right, Princess Devon.” Jeff helps himself to a glass of pink lemonade. “I believe it was our dear Mimi that bought those snazzy shoes.” 

“Oh, how lovely. How is Mimi?” 

“I have a date with the ravishing Mimi this evening. We are celebrating our anniversary.” 

“Ooh, what a wonderful occasion. I think that calls for champagne and a toast. Kwesi?” 

Kwesi, now in his fifties, started with Miss Harper when R+D opened some fifteen years ago. He moved from Ghana to California to follow Miss Harper and carry out her plans for the restaurant. It’s the kind of effect on others only Miss Harper possesses. 

“Your Royal Highnesses, your every wish is my command,” Kwesi says, bowing when he reaches their table. “I count myself as extraordinarily lucky to wait on such beauty today. Please. What can I get you?” As a surprise, Kwesi procures three shot glasses from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and starts juggling them. “Nothing is too much to ask. Nothing is out of my reach. Nothing is…” 

Bailey watches, transfixed, and leans in when Kwesi picks up the pace then pretends to almost lose control of the glasses. 

“Quickly, Princesses!” Kwesi wipes his brow, his movements exaggerated. “Help me! Oh my! Clap! One, two, THREE!” 

All three princesses start clapping and cheering. 

With tremendous expertise, Kwesi lands the shot glasses in the center of the table. 

He bows and promises to come back right away with a bottle of champagne. Bailey squeals in delight and laughs along with Miss Harper, who pours two shots of Don Julio and one shot of strawberry orange juice. Miss Harper knocks back her shot with finesse, while Jeff inwardly apologizes to his poor stomach lining. There’s a reason why he doesn’t drink like he’s twenty--good lord. 

When Kwesi returns with a bottle of Dom and a smaller bottle of sparkling grape juice, he invites Bailey to learn a few magic tricks. Bailey looks to Jeff for permission. Jeff taps and strokes his chin, drawing out the wait, staring Bailey down. He leans in close until they’re nose to nose. 

Jeff kisses Bailey’s nose and nods. “Yes, of course, yes! Go! Learn some magic! Learn how to make your sisters disappear when they wake up at five in the morning!” 

Kwesi and Bailey spend the next few minutes bending spoons and making coins vanish. 

Miss Harper and Jeff, on the other hand, get down to business. 

“We’re working with Dr. K. Mitchell and the school social worker,” Jeff murmurs, tapping his flute of delicious, crisp champagne. “Our third session was Wednesday. Day after Christmas therapy session for the whole family.”

“Oh, darling, I hope you wore a suit.”

“Naturally.” 

“You can’t go wrong with Kaima. I trust you’ve had a lovely experience so far?” 

“Yes, thank you again. I really can’t thank you enough for pulling those strings.”

“When Tyler mentioned it, I was shocked you didn’t come to me first.” Miss Harper dishes out a hint of side eye and a pout. “You know Ima wasn’t born with her PhD.” 

Jeff reaches across the table and takes Miss Harper’s hand. He gives it a gentle squeeze. “I know. I didn’t want to risk a faux pas.” 

“Worry less,” she instructs, and clasps his hand in hers. “That’s old history. Is it going well?” 

“For the kids, yes. They’re like fish to water.” Jeff sits back and takes a sip of champagne. “I didn’t think much of it when the boys--ah, Jared and Jensen--brought the whole thing up. Out of all the things to make a fuss over, this isn’t one of them… for me.” 

Miss Harper nods and joins him in a sip of champagne. “Naturellement, mon amour.” 

With a laugh, Jeff grins. “J’adore quand tu parles Français.”

“Alors tu devras me voir plus souvent,” she snips and smiles. “So who has the problem?”

Their time together as college students in Paris feels like centuries ago. Jeff sighs. “L’amour de ma vie.”

Behind her flute of champagne, Miss Harper dons a shocked look. “Mico?” Her brow furrows. “No. No, no, no, no. What a terrible jest. Tell me the truth.”

Miss Harper calmly instructs Kwesi to take Bailey into the kitchen for a culinary lesson. Without a second glance at Jeff, Bailey follows Kwesi, holding his hand and skipping along the way. Jeff can’t help but laugh.

Cautious, he waits until Kwesi and Bailey have reached the kitchen to continue speaking. He looks at his hands and fidgets with the two rings he’s never taken off since receiving them. 

“No jest, darling. And it’ll be twenty years tonight,” he shares. “Twenty years together, sixteen of them married.”

“Platinum anniversary,” Miss Harper murmurs. She shakes her head. “What are your plans?”

Truth be told, Jeff hates planning things. He’s always flown by the seat of his pants. Whatever seemed or felt right in the moment usually worked out in the end. 

And on the occasions when it all went to hell, well, he survived that shit too. 

The past seven years, however, have gradually taught him the value of planning ahead. Without some kind of planning, he would not have survived the first six months of parenthood. Holy shit that was rough. How the four of them got through it without someone going to the hospital remains a miracle. 

He’s not the same person he was seven years ago, reading through manilla folders with Misha in search of kids to call their own. 

Jeff makes plans when necessary and follows through on them because that is what Papa does. 

Did he need to plan for a chocolate chip pancake breakfast extravaganza on Christmas morning? Yes. He bought five bags of chocolate chips and consumed so much sugar with the kids it’s another miracle no one developed diabetes overnight. 

Sometimes, life requires plans.

But it feels wrong to place a plan onto someone’s identity, experience, and journey. 

“He’s accepting,” Jeff manages to say after clearing his throat. “That’s not the issue. He’s just. The way he’s going about it. I don’t agree with it. He’s trying to analyze every single element of it. There are lists and books and journals--it’s too clinical. He’s even put together slots of time for Bay to play dress up. It’s too much, too confusing. What’s wrong with letting the kid have some fun with it all?”

The words feel wrong in his mouth talking about the love of his life like this. 

“I’m upset,” Jeff sighs, trying to get past the initial discomfort. 

This is different from sessions with Dr. Mitchell and the family. This is between friends, which allows him a degree of freedom to express what he’s really thinking--and it feels so damn weird. 

“He’s trying to put Bailey in a box. That’s what bugs me. Bailey says he wants to be a princess, cool, we’re on board. Misha keeps trying to understand  _ why _ Bay wants to be a princess--but I keep telling him, Bailey doesn’t  _ have _ to know why. All he needs to know is that he likes to wear pretty things and we should let him. That’s it. He’s six, going on seven, and he’s got the rest of his life to figure things out.”

They rarely have arguments or disagreements about the kids. 

They rarely have arguments or disagreements with Jared and Jensen. 

Misha and Jeff have always worked as a team. For them not to see eye to eye on an issue like this stings. The few times they’ve talked about it between themselves and with the guys, Misha only kept pushing his approach and left hardly any room for discussion or input.

Jared and Jensen approached Jeff separately last week and gently shared that they’ve started to feel overwhelmed by Misha’s well-meaning, Type A style of addressing gender variance. 

When Jeff and Misha signed up for this adoption, they knew they’d be taking on more than their original plan of adopting one baby. Jeff made sure Misha Collins--software engineer, creative genius extraordinaire, maker of the best oatmeal cookies in the world--knew what they were getting into. 

Because there are only so many things any two people can plan for. 

At the beginning of their adoption journey, they wanted to start with one kid, then slowly expand their family over time. 

That definitely did not happen--and Jeff counts himself grateful. 

Without a change in plans, they wouldn’t be Papa and Mimi to The Fabulous Three.

They hadn’t planned to co-parent with another couple either, which necessitated more change. The guys were just learning to become adults themselves when the babies were born. Their youth required extra support in more ways than just the finances. Neither Jared nor Jensen had experience navigating long term relationships. Jeff and Misha worked hard to provide them with enough advice to smooth things over or guide them to compromise. 

It has been a continual process to give them enough room to grow as adults and parents, while simultaneously raising three beautiful human beings. 

Everyone in their family works hard to provide for each other. 

No one doubts that Mimi means well. 

But what happened to Jeff and what happened to Lulu will  _ not _ happen to Bailey.

If they continue to treat questions about gender like a butterfly pinned to a board, Bailey will lose out on the opportunity to explore free from constraints or expectations. 

If they continue this way, they risk increasing the presence of shame attached to any questioning or curiosity about different identities. 

That is the exact opposite kind of environment Jeff wants for their kids.

He grew up with shame as a close partner and familiar frenemy whenever he’d slip into his sisters’ dresses or swipe his mother’s lipstick. Even into his adult life, as he entered the drag circuit in Los Angeles and Paris, shame continued to haunt him in the most unnerving ways. 

As accepting as his family and partner were, their support didn’t stop shame from creeping in.

Sometimes he’d look at himself in the mirror--in a dress, wig, and makeup--and recoil. 

It happened more often than he cared to admit. Other queens would flock around him and help chase away his fears and doubts. They’d recognize his pain without words, understanding what he struggled to vocalize and confront. 

Drag isn’t all glitter and sparkle. 

Jeff wouldn’t relive his early twenties if the devil himself offered up the chance. Those were the most confusing times of his life and he got away from it all relatively unscathed--except for that night in Paris, as he left the club without Miss Harper or another queen’s company. 

“Maybe I’m the problem,” Jeff blurts out, mid-laugh. He slips off his crown and sets it on the table, next to his empty champagne glass. “Maybe it’s me, mon bien-aime. Maybe it’s me.”

In their sessions with Dr. Mitchell, Jeff has felt qualified to speak about issues with gender and gender nonconformity. He’s the one who’s dedicated himself to a lifetime of drag, performance, and general gender fuckery. 

Five o’clock shadow and a tasteful pair of pearl earrings? Yes, please. 

A pair of patent, peep-toe, red sole pumps and a flannel overshirt to match? Oh, darling, yes. 

But what if he’s wrong?

Wrong about everything?

The older he gets, the sillier the whole gender shit seems. Look at all the time he spent worrying about other people’s opinions and for what? So he didn’t get the shit kicked out of him? 

Well too fucking bad, because he  _ did _ get the shit kicked out of him. 

And he hadn’t even been wearing a dress or heels.

He spent a week in a Parisian hospital after being assaulted that night, a block away from the club. 

Five years later, after a shit ton of mistakes and a useless law degree, he met the love of his life at the same club. That time he had been in full drag: a visage of white in an Alexander McQueen dress. 

Now, twenty years later, so much has changed.

And he’ll go to the ends of the earth to make sure none of his kids--whoever they end up becoming as adults--go through a fraction of what he did.

Miss Harper stands up from the table. 

She maintains perfect posture at all times. Chin up. Shoulders back. Regal and confident, she extends her right hand towards Jeff. Eye to eye, he envies her wingtips--sharp enough to stab through the hearts of at least fifty men. 

“You are  _ not  _ the problem,” she snaps, her voice commanding and sharp. “You hear me? You. Are. Not. The Problem. You are not anyone’s ‘problem.’” 

Jeff hesitates for a moment, but ultimately gives a nod. 

“Mico needs a swift kick in the ass.” She squeezes Jeff’s hand. “Since our cher ami Lulu is no longer with us, I will tell you  _ exactly  _ how to get through to him.” 

Miss Harper picks up Jeff’s crown and places it back on his noble head. Then, she pours them each another shot of Don Julio, which sparkles in California sunlight. 

Holding up her glass, she continues. “Here’s to Lulu. Here’s to you. And here’s to Princess Bailey.” 

This time, the tequila doesn’t burn. 

They clink their empty shot glasses together and walk arm in arm towards the kitchen--princesses on a mission.

\--

At home, Bailey and Jeff store their crowns in a wood box lined with red velvet, hidden from view in Jeff’s walk-in closet. 

Bailey places his secret, special crown into the box with the greatest care and reverence. “When can we see Miss Harper and Keke again?” 

“She said she can accept royal invitations one Saturday every month, before the restaurant opens.” Jeff places the box on his shoe rack, keeping it easy for Bailey to reach just in case. “Let’s change into play clothes and go to the backyard, huh?” 

They’ve got visitors today waiting outside with the boys. There’s still time to hang out and check-in before he and Misha leave for anniversary celebrations. Jeff begins undressing, happy to get back in jeans and a shirt again. While still in his boxer briefs and socks, he pauses, hands on his hips.

“Honey,” he says to Bailey, who hasn’t moved. “Did you wanna stay in your outfit?” 

Out of The Fabulous Three, Bailey looks the most like a living copy of Jared. It’s incredible how similar they look--and fascinating how much they differ in personality. Through nature or nurture, Bailey acquired Jensen’s affinity for quiet introspection. He works out his response internally for a moment, concentrating hard, trying to decide on what words to choose. 

Jeff kneels down and patiently waits. 

Hands clasped, shoulders tense, Bailey looks at Jeff with worried eyes--instantly breaking a small piece of Jeff’s heart. Despite the hurt, Jeff maintains his poise and smile. He’s dedicated himself to blocking his children from harm, whether it was by laying down pillows on every available nearby surface when they first started walking, or staying up with them at three in the morning after scary dreams.

He won’t ever stop protecting them.

Quietly, Bailey issues his question, full of worry. 

“Papa, can I wear a dress?” 

An opportunity presents itself and Jeff decides to seize it. 


End file.
